Part 9
When he next awoke, the room was positively crowded. Three men stood by the window with their backs to him, speaking in hushed, urgent tones. Ezra looked around, but saw no sign that Vin was present. Feigning sleep, he listened carefully, hoping to discern who these men were and what they were doing in his room. The voices were soft, but he could make out a few words. His attention was riveted when he heard one of them say
His heart began to race as Ezra considered what might be happening to his best friend. The fact that these men were here and talking about him did not bode well for either of them. As his agitation increased, so did his respiration, which induced a sudden and unexpected coughing fit. His fists clenched in the sheets as he fought to stifle the agonizing spasms.
You okay, kid? a concerned voice asked.
When he finally caught his breath and opened his eyes, he found a familiar face hovering over him. I'm quite... fine, Mr. Wilmington. His chest felt heavy and he forced himself to take short, shallow breaths to keep his breathing even.
Good, I was... hey, wait a minute! Wilmington gave him a puzzled look. How do you know who I am?
Vin described... you to me, Ezra replied hoarsely, silently berating himself for the slip and hoping the man believed him. He did not want to reveal that he had actually seen the man before... not yet, anyway.
Buck said, not looking entirely convinced.
How're you feeling? a younger man, standing beside Wilmington, inquired.
I'm fine... Mr. Dunne, isn't it? Ezra replied, speaking carefully to avoid another coughing fit.
The man grinned, making him look even younger. That's me.
If I may ask, what... are you doing here?
Well, we happened to run into Vin yesterday, and he told us how sick you were, Buck explained. Turned out he needed someone to give the docs permission to take care of you, so, here we are.
I see, Ezra replied quietly, feeling his world crashing down around him. It appeared that he and Vin were once again back on the road to Social Services and whatever hell hole they decided was a fit place for them to live. He had no illusions that he and Vin would end up together – that only happened in fairy tales and he had stopped believing in Santa Claus a long time ago. He sighed inwardly, figuring that was why Vin wasn't here. If one of them remained free, there was always hope that they could get together again and see their plans through.
The doctor says you'll be able to leave in a couple of days, said the third man in the room, a bearded, older man with kind blue eyes.
Ezra grimaced, thinking that the hospital might be better than wherever he was destined once he was back in the clutches of Social Services.
Something wrong? Wilmington asked.
Ezra shook his head, hoping to clear the depressing thoughts away. To divert attention from himself, he asked, Where is Vin? The look on Wilmington's face in response to his question struck fear into Ezra's heart.
Mr. Wilmington?
We don't know where he is, Wilmington replied after a brief pause. Chris thought he would be back this morning, but he hasn't been here.
Ezra looked at the clock, noting that it was nearly one in the afternoon. His gut churned at the thought that Vin had run into any trouble. He would understand if Vin was staying away to avoid being taken into custody again, but what if Jones and the rest of MacDermott's band of thugs caught up with him again?
Do you know where Vin might have gone? Dunne asked. Maybe a place where you guys like to hang out?
Ezra pressed his lips together tightly. There was no way he was going to give up the location of the home they had worked so hard to maintain for more than two years. No, I'm afraid I... have no idea where he... might have chosen... to hang out', as you put it.
The three men stared at him, disbelief plain on their faces, but Ezra did not care. He was not going to give up Vin for anyone.
Wilmington shared a look with the bearded man, who gave him a short nod. Sighing heavily, Wilmington turned back toward him. Ezra, we think Vin might be in trouble. Chris got a call late this morning about a brawl and subsequent fire that occurred late this morning at that old factory where we first met Vin.
Ezra forcibly kept himself from reacting, tilting his head sideways inquisitively instead. And what... does this have... to do with Vin?
There were casualties, Wilmington said simply. Chris is at the morgue checking them out now.
A cold stab of fear shot through him and it was all he could do to keep from bolting from the bed and running to check on Vin. Ezra merely nodded in reply, pasting a blasé expression on his face, much to his visitors' consternation.
Did you hear what I said? Wilmington prodded.
Yes, I did... Mr. Wilmington, Ezra replied breathlessly. My hearing... is not impaired.
Doesn't it worry you, son? the bearded man asked.
First, I am not... your son, Mr....? Ezra stated softly.
Sanchez, Josiah Sanchez.
Second, Vin can... take care of himself. I am... certain you will not... find him in... any morgue. Ezra would not believe that Vin was dead; it was simply inconceivable.
I see, Sanchez replied thoughtfully. Perhaps, then, you could tell us where he is, so we don't have to worry about him. That wouldn't hurt anything, would it?
Ezra rolled his eyes. You will have... to do better than that... Mr. Sanchez. I am not a fool. His hoarse retort was interrupted with another fit of coughing that prevented him from expressing further indignation.
Take it easy, kid, Dunne said, patting his shoulder sympathetically.
If he hadn't been so helpless from coughing, Ezra would have pulled away from the uninvited touch. He didn't like anyone getting too close to him, since it usually proved to be a harbinger of pain. When the coughs finally subsided, Ezra was feeling both physically and emotionally spent. His eyes started to drift shut, despite his best efforts to stay awake.
Buck came to immediate attention when Chris entered the hospital room. JD and Josiah had returned to work, having only stopped by during their lunch hour to keep Buck company while he waited to see if Vin would show up.
Chris sighed. I don't know. They found three bodies inside... He shook his head. They're nothing but charcoal now. Can't tell much other than they're all male.
So one of em could be Tanner? Buck said grimly, knowing how difficult it had been for his friend to see the burned bodies after what had happened to his own family.
Two were the right size, Chris said softly. And there was a charred backpack near them that looks just like the one Vin had with him yesterday. It was empty, but... He shrugged helplessly.
There's a lot of reasons that might explain why he ain't here, Buck offered hopefully.
Yeah, but given that he and Standish were involved in a fight just a couple nights ago, and hell, we found Tanner in that goddamn factory in the first place... Chris sat heavily in one of the chairs. He was too worried about Standish to just not show up today. There's just too damn many coincidences for me to believe there's any other reason, much as I wish that were the case.
Buck ran a hand through his thick hair. Damn. How are we gonna break the news to him? He nodded his head toward Ezra.
I don't know, Buck, Chris said sadly.
Well you better think of somethin' fast, cause I think he's waking up, Buck warned, pointing to the boy on the bed who had starting moving his head.
Chris cursed, getting to his feet and moving closer to the bed. How the hell was he supposed to tell this boy that his friend – his brother – was probably dead?
Ezra awoke again to find visitors in his room. Wilmington was still present, but had been joined by Chris Larabee. He looked around, but still saw no sign of Vin.
Yes, Mr. Larabee? Ezra said in his rough voice, meeting the man's smoky blue eyes.
Larabee paused at being addressed by name, then continued. I guess Vin told you about me?
Ezra nodded in reply.
Are you feeling better today?
Ezra replied.
I... I'm afraid we have some bad news about Vin, Larabee said hesitantly. There was a fire at that old shoe factory and... well, we think Vin might be one of the victims.
Ezra stared at him as he searched the man's face for any signs of deceit. He found none. An icy hand seemed to close around his heart, sending a shudder rippling through him. It wasn't possible. Vin couldn't be dead. He would know, wouldn't he?
Wilmington said, moving up on his other side. Kid? You all right?
Vin is not deceased, Ezra said firmly, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. He couldn't bring himself to say the word dead.'
I know it's hard to believe, but all the evidence is pointing in that direction, Larabee said gently.
Ezra looked at him. The man seemed genuinely disturbed by the thought of Vin's death, something he had not expected to see in a man who barely knew his friend. But it could still be a trick to induce him into divulging information. Turning away, Ezra said, I will not believe any such thing. I would know if something happened to Vin.
Why don't you tell us where you guys usually go? Wilmington suggested. That way we can make sure?
His desire to find Vin was almost overwhelming, and Ezra couldn't deny he was tempted to tell the agents where they were living, but he had not survived as long as he had by making impulsive decisions. It would be torture, but he was going to wait until he could check for himself... or until Vin showed up on his own. If Vin truly was dead – though he still refused to believe that – another day or two wouldn't hurt anybody.
If you gentlemen don't mind, I'd like to be alone, Ezra said softly, turning away from them.
Larabee stared at him for a moment, then turned to Wilmington and nodded toward the door. He paused by the bed, waiting until Ezra looked him in the eye. We'll be back later, Ezra.
Ezra said nothing as the two men left his room. Once he was alone, he allowed himself to loosen the tight rein he had been holding on his emotions. A shudder ran through him and he clenched his fists tightly to stop the shaking. His eyes burned but he refused to cry. Vin just couldn't be dead; he had promised they would stick together, just like brothers. An errant tear slid down his cheek. He promised.
God, I hate doing that, Chris said, slumping against the wall.
It doesn't get any easier, does it, Buck agreed.
Did you see the look on his face? Chris continued. He was trying so hard to act like it didn't bother him, but I could see it in his eyes. The kid's devastated.
I know, Buck said with a sigh. He's got a hell of a poker face, though. If we hadn't been looking for it, we probably wouldn't have seen it.
Chris said.
After a few minutes of silent contemplation, Buck asked, So what now?
Chris blew out a breath. We'll leave him alone for a while, give him time to deal with it. I think he probably knows something about Digger, but he's not likely to be cooperative just yet.
Can't say I'd blame him, Buck said with a soft snort. Ain't been the best couple of days for the poor kid.
Chris nodded silently, looking back toward the door to the hospital room with a sympathetic expression.
Come on, Buck said quietly. I'll buy you a cup of coffee.
The two men walked quietly down the hallway toward the cafeteria.
They were still there. Vin dropped the corner of the curtain angrily and resumed pacing the small basement room. When he had awakened that morning, ready to head out to the diner, he found that Leo Jones and some of his cronies had apparently decided to hang out in the alley outside his apartment today. If not for his usual precaution of checking out the window before opening the door, he would have walked right into the middle of them.
After two hours, he had given up on the hope that they might leave soon and had resigned himself to spending the day inside the apartment. Still, Vin couldn't help checking every few minutes, hoping that they might have departed. Unfortunately, they had continued to loiter nearby, except for a short period late in the morning when most of them had disappeared for about an hour. He had contemplated making a break for it then, but there were still three of the boys – each outweighing him by at least thirty pounds – who remained behind.
It was killing him to be stuck here while Ezra was alone and sick in the hospital, but there was too much to lose if MacDermott's friends found out where he and Ezra lived... not to mention the beating he would probably receive at their hands if they caught him again. Vin sighed in resignation, flopping back onto the mattress. His thoughts drifted to Ezra. His friend always worried about him when he was late, and he hoped he wouldn't be too distressed over his absence this time.
It was an odd feeling, having someone worrying about him. It had been a long time since anyone had bothered, and Vin found he rather enjoyed it. He imagined it was the same kind of feeling that real brothers would share, hence his claiming of Ezra as his family. The other boy, having little experience with family, had been stunned the first time Vin called him brother,' but had eventually come to accept it, and even welcome it... though he'd never admit it.
Unfortunately, the teenagers outside his door were keeping him from his brother today. Vin muttered another frustrated curse. What the hell were those assholes doing in his neighborhood anyway? It was a good distance from their usual hangouts and the residents of this area had made it clear that the drug dealing gang was not welcome in their neighborhood. He was surprised, in fact, that no one had yet called the police to clear them out.
Vin decided to make the best of his enforced confinement and pulled out the history book he had been reading at the hospital. If he couldn't go anywhere, he might as well make good use of his time. He still had enough food left for a meal or two, so he wouldn't need to leave for a while. Ezra would understand, especially once he explained the situation.
It was the middle of the night and Ezra was again wide awake. His sleep had been fitful that night, his mind churning with nightmare images of Vin and fire. Larabee had returned to his room at one point, earlier in the evening, but now he was alone again with his turbulent thoughts. His insides twisted every time he thought about Vin being killed in such a heinous and painful manner, allowing him no peace in his slumber.
The agitation finally became too much and Ezra carefully sat up in his bed, holding his injured ribs tightly. The nurses had removed his IV lines earlier that day, deeming him capable of taking oral antibiotics, so he was now only encumbered by the oxygen mask on his face. Sliding the mask off, he eased himself gently out of the bed, taking a moment to steady his wobbly legs before walking slowly toward the closet. Vin had hung his clothes in there when he had been admitted and Ezra was greatly relieved to discover that they had not been removed.
Ezra dressed as quickly as his aching body would allow and then reached for the door. After checking that the hallway was clear, he slipped out of the room and headed for the closest elevator. He was fully aware that he was not really well enough to leave, but he knew he would not be able to rest until he was certain of Vin's fate.
Exiting the elevator, Ezra made his way outside without incident. There were no taxis nearby, so he started walking. The night air was cool and he pulled his jacket tighter around himself to ward off the chill. He didn't pay much notice to his surroundings as he walked slowly toward home, thinking – dreading – what he might find when he got there. What if he arrived at home to find it was empty? What would he do then? Shaking those thoughts away, Ezra concentrated solely on putting one foot in front of the other. He would have his answers soon enough.
A thud and a muffled curse brought Vin fully awake within seconds. He held his breath and waited, his heart pounding wildly, until he heard an odd shuffling noise coming from an area near the door. Launching himself from his bed, Vin tackled the intruder, sending both of them crashing to the concrete floor. A loud yelp and a spate of coughing had him running for the lamp.
he said incredulously when he recognized his friend's prone form on the floor.
Ezra answered between coughs.
What the hell are you doin' here? Vin shouted. You're supposed to be in the hospital. He hurried over to the other boy, pulling him to his feet and gripped his shoulders tightly. Jesus, you nearly gave me a heart attack.
Ezra gave him a goofy grin. His eyes were suspiciously bright as he grabbed his friend, pulling him into a tight hug.
Vin squirmed, trying to extricate himself from his Ezra's grasp. What's the matter with you?
You're here, Ezra croaked, loosening his hold slightly. I knew you would be.
'Course I'm here. Vin looked at Ezra as if he had lost his mind. Question is, what are you doin' here?
Ezra stumbled toward the table, sinking down into a chair with a sigh. They said you were dead. I couldn't sleep so I... I just had to know. You weren't there and...
It's okay, Ez. Vin pulled a chair closer and sat next to Ezra. I'm right here.
Ezra apologized, embarrassed by his lack of composure. You weren't there and I just had to make sure you were okay.
Hell, I'm sorry, Ez, Vin said. I wanted to get back to the hospital, but Jones an' his bunch were campin' out in the alley outside. I couldn't get out without runnin' into
I told them you weren't dead.
Who said I was dead? A bad feeling suddenly flared in Vin's chest. Who would say something so horrible to his friend? And why?
Larabee and Wilmington, Ezra explained, unable to hide the faint tremor in his voice. They said you were burned up in a fire at the old factory this morning. They seemed rather upset about it.
Vin pondered the information. I wonder what happened?
They said there was a fight beforehand, Ezra continued. You weren't at the hospital today as they expected, and we did have that earlier altercation with MacDermott's associates. They were convinced that you were somehow involved with what occurred.
Well I was right here all day, Vin stated. Some of those jerks took off for a while this morning, though. Bet you anything they were part of it.
I expect you are correct in that assumption. Ezra suddenly doubled over and started coughing again.
We gotta get you back to the hospital. Vin gave his stricken friend a worried look.
Ezra gasped.
Ez, you're too sick to stay here, Vin tried to reason with his friend. You need to be in the hospital.
Ezra said weakly. They won't find us here. He started coughing again while Vin rubbed his back, trying to ease the spasms in his back muscles.
Vin studied his friend, noting the signs of exhaustion and pain in his face. It was late and he didn't think it would be beneficial to force Ezra back into the cool night air, so he urged his weary brother over to the bed.
We'll stay here tonight, Vin said, removing his stubborn friend's shoes. He could bring him back to the hospital in the morning.
Ezra nodded, fumbling to remove his coat.
Here, take some of this. Vin handed him the bottle of cough medicine, then turned on the space heater.
Thank you, Ezra said hoarsely.
Vin smiled at him with fond exasperation. No problem, Ez.
Ezra fell asleep quickly, much to his relief. Vin checked outside for any sign of the gang that had kept him inside all day and then locked the door securely behind him, satisfied the reprobates had moved on. He returned to the bed and frowned as he studied his sleeping friend's haggard face. He was definitely going to have a talk with Larabee and his pals in the morning. It pissed him off that they had upset Ezra enough to drive him out of the hospital in search of the truth. His friend was sick enough without them adding to it, especially when it was none of their concern. They didn't need any ATF busybodies butting into their business. That decided, Vin lay beside his best friend, vowing to watch over him like a brother should.
Chris hung up the phone and pinched the bridge of his nose.
Buck, sitting across from his desk, gave him a quizzical look. What's up?
That was the hospital, Chris said flatly. Standish is gone.
Buck paled. Gone? As in... dead?
Chris said quickly. Gone as in disappeared. He apparently took off sometime during the night.
Shit. Guess we shouldn't have told him about Vin.
I didn't figure he'd do something like this, Chris said with a sigh. Damn kid's as slippery as Tanner was.
We gonna try to find him?
Chris gave his friend a look. He's sick. I want to find him before he gets any worse.
And you still want to find out what he knows about Digger.
Hell, Buck. Chris ran an angry hand through his hair. It's my fault the kid took off. All I care about right now is getting him back under a doctor's care where he belongs.
Buck lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. I just wanted to be sure we were on the same page, is all.
I'm going to head back down to the fire site, Chris stated. See what I can find out.
I'll call Bill Hawthorne over at the PD, Buck offered. See if they have anything on the fire.
Thanks, Buck.
You gonna be okay there?
Chris gave his old friend a wan smile, appreciating his concern. Fire scenes were not his favorite thing, but this was something he needed to do. I'll be fine.
Okay. I'll let you know what I find out. Buck left the office with a wave and Chris once again thanked whatever powers had blessed him with such a steadfast friend.
Ezra woke slowly, breathing hard as the last vestiges of his nightmare faded. He felt his breath catch as a cough threatened and forced himself to slow his breathing, hoping to forestall another painful episode. A hand dropped onto his shoulder and he turned to see Vin watching him closely.
You doin' okay?
Ezra replied.
You sure bout that? Vin asked. You don't sound so good and you're still awfully warm.
I'm fine, Vin, Ezra replied hoarsely. I merely had an unsettling dream.
You reckon you're up for some breakfast?
I believe I could eat something, Ezra said with a nod.
We'll go by Rosie's before we head back to the hospital.
I feel fine, Vin, Ezra insisted. I do not need to return to the hospital.
Ezra, you almost died cause you couldn't breathe. Vin gripped Ezra's arm pleadingly. I want you to get well.
Recognizing the anxiety in Vin's eyes, Ezra lowered his head remorsefully. I'm sorry to have caused you to worry. I will return to the hospital after we partake of our morning repast.
Damn, Ez, Vin said with a chuckle. You must be feelin' a little better if you can talk like that.
Giving him a rueful smile, Ezra said, I do feel somewhat better.
Good. Now let's go get breakfast. Vin slapped him gently on the back, returning the smile. I'm hungry.
You're always hungry, Ezra grumbled good-naturedly as he pulled on his clothes.
The two boys dressed quickly and were soon on their way to the diner.
Rosie greeted them with hugs when they came through the door, dragging them to seats at the counter before they could utter a word. You boys sit right there. She bustled back into the kitchen, leaving them sitting silently at the counter.
Guess she told us, Vin said with a short laugh.
Ezra covered his mouth to contain a burst of coughing, but he nodded in agreement.
You sound like you should still be in the hospital, Rosie said, returning with two cups of hot chocolate.
He's goin' back there right after we have breakfast, Vin said, pulling out some money.
You put that away, Vin Tanner, Rosie said sternly, pushing the money away and looking offended. You boys know your money is no good here.
Yes, ma'am. Vin stuffed the bills back into his pocket, appropriately chagrined.
Rosie nodded and went back into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with plates of eggs for both of them. Eat up, now. You boys look like you could use a decent meal.
Yes, ma'am, Ezra said in his rough voice.
Rosie looked at him sternly. What are you doing out of the hospital, anyway, young man? Last I heard you were pretty darn sick.
Vin answered for him. He was worried about me. Someone told im I was dead in that fire at the old factory over on Shaw St.
Who would do a thing like that?
Vin explained all that had occurred in the last few days.
Damn fools, Rosie grumbled. Someone should slap those agents upside the head.
Vin snorted and Ezra nearly choked on his eggs at the thought of Rosie taking on the men from the ATF. It would certainly be a sight to behold.
Rosie fussed over them until they finished eating, then insisted they take
a bag of doughnuts with them for later, claiming, That hospital food
ain't fit to feed a dog most of the time.
Thank you, Mrs. Milburn, Ezra said.
You take care of yourself, Ezra, Rosie admonished. Do what the doctors tell you and get well, you hear?
Don't worry, Miz Rosie, Vin said. I'll make sure he does what he's told.
Ezra glared at Vin as his friend guided him outside, Rosie's laughter following them out the door.
I'll call us a cab. Vin made his way toward a pay phone on the corner.
I don't think that will be necessary, Ezra said softly.
Vin turned to Ezra, following his friend's gaze toward the street, where the reason for his statement became apparent. Heading toward them at a rapid clip was a black truck with a familiar face behind the wheel.
Chris could hardly believe it. He had not really expected to find the Standish kid so soon. This was only his first pass through the area, and yet, there he was, standing nonchalantly on the corner. And to top it off, a very much alive Vin Tanner was with him. He made a quick U-turn, ignoring the horns being sounded at him by irate drivers. Pulling the big truck up to the curb, he jumped out and ran toward the two boys, who stood calmly watching him.
Standing in front of them, he put a firm hand on each of their shoulders. Damn, you boys had us worried. He turned to Vin, a grin slowly forming on his face. Thought you were history, kid. Then, to Ezra, And you. What were you thinking, taking off from the hospital like that?
Vin pulled away from him angrily. You should know, you're the one who made im leave. Why the hell did ya tell im I was dead?
We thought you were one of the victims in that fire, Chris explained. You hadn't turned up anywhere else. He shrugged.
Hey, what are you doing to my boys? a voice shouted from behind them.
Chris whirled around, his eyes widening in surprise at the stocky woman striding toward him angrily, waving a sturdy broom.
It's okay, Miz Rosie, Vin said. He ain't hurtin' us. He's givin' us a ride back to the hospital.
You don't have to go with him, if you don't want to, boys, Rosie said, glaring at Chris.
It's quite all right, Mrs. Milburn, Ezra said. Mr. Larabee means us no harm.
You the man who took our Vin away? Rosie's eyes narrowed suspiciously.
Yes ma'am, Chris replied uncertainly. I'm just trying to help, that's all.
Hmmph! We'll see about that. Rosie turned to the two boys. You sure you want to go with him?
Yes, ma'am, Vin said. We'll be okay, don't worry.
She favored Chris with a scathing glare. All right, but I'll be checking up on you.
Chris nodded at her, watching bemusedly as the woman stalked back into the diner.
It started as a chuckle, and soon turned into full-blown laughter. Vin and Ezra were clutching their aching ribs as they laughed at him.
Chris couldn't help but smile at the sight. You think that's funny, huh?
Damn straight, Vin replied between laughs.
Their laughter stopped short when Ezra suddenly started coughing again. Chris quickly ushered the two boys into the truck, frowning in concern as he watched the stricken southerner gasp for breath. After making sure their seat belts were fastened, Chris pulled into the lane of traffic and sped toward the hospital.